


In your own good time

by litlebritain



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9355607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litlebritain/pseuds/litlebritain
Summary: Contains spoilers for series 4 episode 2 canticleSome missing scenes from the episode





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been waiting 3 and a half series for Morse to end up in hospital and I wasn't dissapointed. I decided to write some missing scenes to pan it out a bit

Strange slammed the young woman against the wall and pressed his forearm into her throat.

“You were asked what you gave him and we don’t want to have to ask again,” Strange snarled as she started to choke for breath and turn blue.

“WHAT WAS IT?” Strange banged her off the wall again.

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. Disgusted, Strange threw her into the hands of the waiting uniforms and turned his attention back to his two colleagues.

 

Morse was still curled in a ball howling in anguish, and Thursday had his arms round him trying desperately to comfort him in any way possible.

“He needs a doctor. Is Bakshi still around?” Thursday asked urgently.

“Nowhere to be seen,” Strange slammed his hand on the floor, frustrated. “I could call…”

The rest of his sentence was rendered unnecessary as the door banged open and Doctor DeBryn stormed in.

“Doc…how?” Strange spluttered.

“Does it really matter just now? What’s he been given?” DeBryn demanded, turning his attention to Morse who was now cowered on the floor, sobbing.

“No idea, stupid little cow wouldn’t tell us,” Thursday spat out. “Can’t we get him to bring it back up?”

“It’s gone beyond that I’m afraid, it’s in his blood stream now and it’s already acting on his brain.”

Morse started screaming, rocking back and forth. Whatever he could see in his head was obviously terrifying and Thursday grabbed his shoulders, wanting nothing more than for the young mans suffering to end.

“Looks like something similar to LSD,” DeBryn observed.

“Do something! Give him something, make it stop!” Thursday barked at DeBryn

“Even if I was licensed to administer medicine, which I’m not, I don’t have anything with me that would be of any use,” DeBryn snapped back, his eyes narrowing. “The only thing we can do is get him to hospital straight away and hope that’s enough.”

“Right we’ll get him down to the car, Strange go and phone the hospital and tell them we’re coming,” Thursday ordered.

 

The two men supported the weight of Morse between them out to the Jaguar and DeBryn took him on the back seat with Thursday driving. Morse was crying and moaning incoherently and seemed entirely unaware of what was going on around him. His skin was flushed, his pupils were becoming more and more dilated and DeBryn could feel the young mans heart racing. He screamed in agony, reaching out to push away the terrifying forces that were unseen by the two men in the car.

“What’s wrong with him,” Thursday demanded tersely from the front. He wanted look around, he wanted to be able to comfort his fried but for now all he could do was keep his eyes on the road to get him safely to help.

“Delirium. Users of such drugs have reported after episodes of being in an almost psychosis like state with audio and visual hallucinations, usually of a horrific nature.”

Thursday’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. He wished he hadn’t asked.

* * *

 

A short time later they arrived at the Hospital, Thursday screeching to a halt outside accident and emergency. They hoisted a struggling Morse up between them and Thursday could immediately see how he had deteriorated during the car journey and he hoped desperately that they weren’t too late. A team of doctors and nurses came running towards them and helped them lower Morse onto a stretcher where he started violently thrashing, screaming again. He was then whisked through a set of doors that Thursday and DeBryn were stopped from following him through.

The two men sat down heavily in a pair of plastic chairs and settled themselves down for the long wait. Neither spoke and they preferred it that way, with the whirring of fans, the ringing of phones and the chattering of children all there was to distract them from the what if’s now in the forefront of their minds.

After what seemed like days (but in reality was only half an hour), a young doctor in a white coat came walking towards them his face impassive, unreadable.

“I’m Doctor White, I believe you are with Mr Morse?” The doctor enquired

“Yes I’m his Inspector,” Thursday replied.

“I’m afraid I’m only supposed to give patient details out to family members,” Dr White explained apologetically.

“He’s only got a sister and I doubt she’ll be coming down – we’re the closest he has to family after her and Doctor DeBryn is his friend. Can’t you tell us just this once?” Thursday asked.

“In that case I don’t see what harm it will do. He’s had a large dose of a hallucinogenic drug but thankfully not enough for it to be fatal. We don’t know what it is yet but we’ve sent samples to the lab as a priority so we should know pretty soon. He’s been sedated but it’s not going to be enou- he’s in for a rough ride in the next few hours.”

Thursday huffed angrily. “Cant you just increase-“

“Not until they know what it is. It might have an adverse reaction with the sedative,” Max explained sympathetically. He knew it was hard for Thursday seeing someone he cared about so deeply beyond any help he could give him.

“Can I see him?” Thursday asked

“It might be better if you don’t. He’s still extremely agitated, you might find it quite distressing,” Dr White said kindly.

“I’ve seen him at his best, I’ve seen him at his worst. I’ll be fine.”

Dr White paused for a moment. “Ok fine, this way.”

He led the two men through to an area filled with cubicles and led them up to a glass partition. On the other side of it Morse was lying on a stretcher, now wearing a hospital gown and he was still thrashing and crying.

“We tried to hook him up to an intravenous drip and heart monitor but he kept ripping it off,” the doctor explained quietly. “I understand this was an accidental rather than willful ingestion?”

“No, he didn’t choose this,” Thurday growled, his white knuckles clenched around his hat.

“Well it’s just a waiting game now to see if there has been any long term damage but we’ll do our best  for him,” The doctor promised. “He’s young, fit and healthy and it’s a one off so that all counts in his favour.”

“Thanks doctor. I need to go back to the station but I’ll be back in an hour or two, can you phone me there if there are any changes?”

“Of course Inspector. Doctor.” Dr White walked round the partition and pulled some curtains over it, blocking Morse from view.

* * *

 

Back in the waiting room, Thursday turned to Debryn. “What sort of hallucinations?”

DeBryn hesitated.

“Tell me honestly.”

“Going on reports from other takers, I would imagine a revisiting of past events, especially those that are the most distressing,” DeBryn explained, choosing his words carefully.

“In other words…”

“He will probably be reliving his mother and father dying, being shot, stabbed, prison…” DeBryn stopped at the look on Thursday’s face which was now a picture of pure rage.

“Why would anyone want…” Words were beyond Thursday.

“I’ve no idea myself. Like the doctor said, he’s young and healthy enough to pull through this. Yes the psychological damage is going to take longer to heal from but that’s why he needs you and his friends there to help him recover. Like when he came back after his father, take it slowly and he’ll get through it,” DeBryn told Thursday gently.

“Thank you for all your help Doctor, I’ll see you soon,” Thursday turned and walked away. He was almost at the door when he remembered. “Oh, Doctor?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“How did you know to come?”

“Oh that. Yes, one WPC Trewlove caught me while I was dropping off my reports. She said that there was trouble up at the house and that drugs might be involved. She said she just had a feeling.”

Thursday nodded and walked out into the carpark, DeBryn heading back to the mortuary.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter gets a bit weird - on twitter I asked Russ Lewis what inspired him to drug Morse and he said "I wondered how a man of Endeavour's sharp and ordered mind might react to an assault on that very thing." I've tried to explore that a bit here.

Thursday returned to the station. He was aware of the wary atmosphere hanging over the station, people talking in hushed tones as he passed. He had barely time to open his office door and hang up his jacket and hat before the phone on his desk rang. He snatched it up on the first ring.

“Thursday.”

“Inspector. Its Doctor White here, the test results are back.”

“Yes?”

“They found several tropane alkaloids which means that the drug is more likely to be a natural plant based substance. Unfortunately that doesn’t narrow it down as the alkaloids are generic to a variety of different species. If there is any way to find out, it would be helpful if we could narrow it down to the specific plants used to know if there is anything else we need to look out for.”

“Don’t worry Doctor, I’ll find out for you,” Thursday growled darkly.

He stood up, cracking his knuckles. He was brought up to respect women and as a rule he didn’t approve of even raising his voice against ladies but he was willing make an exception. Emma had lost her rights to any feminine courtesy when she drugged three people and killed one out of jealousy and sheer spite.

The office door banged open, snapping Thursday out of his dark thoughts and bringing in Strange.

“Sir, Mcnutt and I had another go on Emma and she cracked. Henbane, Mandrake and Jimsonweed, natural stimulant,” Strange said quickly

“Thanks Sergeant.”

“How is he Sir?” Strange enquired cautiously.

Thursday gave no answer but the look on his face must have given Strange the answer he needed because he nodded grimly and slowly backed out of the room. He picked up the phone to relay the information to the hospital then he headed along to update Bright.

* * *

 

Later on, Thursday dropped by Morse’s flat to pick up some things – pyjamas, books, clothes- and took them to the hospital. He was led to the ward Morse had been moved to and with a sense of trepidation he walked round the curtains hiding him from view.

The first thing that he noticed was that his bagman had stopped thrashing and was now lying still. Too still. He looked to the Doctor White who was hovering over Morse, brows furrowed and a clipboard in hand.

“Doctor? How is he now?” Thursday enquired, half not wanting to know the answer.

“A bit better than earlier. His temperature is on the way back down which is good. We’ve given him something to regulate his heart rate and increased the sedative dosage. That’s why he’s so still,” the doctor explained, sensing Thursday’s concern.

“And the drugs she gave him?”

“Just a cocktail of three natural highs. No better or worse than any other plant based stimulants. There’s nothing specifically about that blend that is any more dangerous or worrying. All we can do now is wait.”

Thursday sighed heavily and rubbed his temples, and the doctor stepped forward and put a hand on his arm.

“Go home and get some sleep Inspector. He’s in the best place and we’ll call you at home if there’s any change. There’s so much diazepam in his system that he’s going to be out of it well into tomorrow, so we won’t be able to tell anything else until he wakes up.”

Thursday left the bag he had brought with the doctor and reluctantly headed home. Sleep didn’t come easy that night and he must have seen every hour on the clock. The next morning he was at Morse’s bedside by 9am, determined to be there when he woke up and gage how much damage there was.

When Morse woke up he had been confused. He recognized the blue sheets and curtains and the general whitewashed feel immediately – hospital.  When Thursday had answered his question about the day with corned beef at first he felt confused, wondered if he was still incoherent. Then the gears had started to grind and he realised what it meant, that Thursday was not so subtly testing him. He felt exhausted and his head and muscles were aching. After Thursday left he turned over and fell back into a deep dreamless sleep. He awoke some time later to see the bespectacled form of Dr DeBryn sitting by his bedside.

“Morse. I thought I would pop in and see how you are, now that you’ve come back down to join us,” DeBryn remarked, trying to make light of the situation with his brand of dry humour that Morse would understand.

“What happened?” Morse asked thickly.

“I’d have thought that was obvious – you consumed a large dose of a hallucinogenic substance and I’d say the rest is fairly self-explanatory.”

Morse rolled his eyes. “No, I mean after… you know. Honestly.” Morse had seen enough of Cowley nick on a Friday night to have a good idea of what may have happened next but he wanted to know.

“I think you will have a good idea. You entered into a delusional state, we got you to hospital and the doctors took it from there. Don’t do this to yourself Morse, you weren’t yourself – you weren’t responsible for any of your actions after you ingested those drugs.

After some more small talk, DeBryn headed back to the mortuary, leaving Morse to try and piece his thoughts together.

Not responsible for your actions… so something had happened, but what? Had he cried like a baby, or screamed obscenities? Lashed out at those around him? He had some vague, muddled recollections of lying down, people touching his arms, hitting out and finding flesh. Images were coming back now from his drug fuelled trip – his mum lying dead, Gwen standing over her shouting at him. Susan handing him the ring back, a sad smile on her face, morphing into Joan as she turned away from him. Being stabbed in a library basement, shot in a dons living room, standing in a prison canteen with hostile inmates gathering around him… An upwelling of memories from the past years but somehow a hundred times more horrific than when the evets originally happened. Distortion and bright colours – the world around him but not quite as it should be, everything wrong and out of place. Up was down, left was right, nothing where it was supposed to be. Loud noises, dark shapes. Then finally darkness, respite. Hospital. His heart began to pound and he gripped the bed covers between his fists.

“Best not to think about it,” Doctor white said perceptively, appearing round his curtain.

“Hhmm?”

“Endea-“

“Please, just Morse.”

“Sorry. Morse, these substances act on the brain in the worst way. Distorting reality and causing terrifying hallucinations. Revisiting past events. I understand from an inference of Inspector Thursdays that you have a great many horrors in your past – leave them there. What you saw and what you felt for those few hours doesn’t mean anything. They can't hurt you now, you can let them go. No one is expecting you to be fine right away, it will take you a while but you will recover from this.”

Morse let this sink in for a moment, then “I’m sorry if I … you know … hurt anyone or made a mess…”

“That’s quite all right, we’re a sympathetic bunch here,” Doctor White smiled at him kindly. “One more thing, we may need to think about an appointment with a psychiatrist. There’s absolutely no shame in that, it’s purely to check there has been no lasting brain damage. You're going to feel quite weakness and confusion but it should pass in 2 or 3 days as the remnants leave your system. You're going to be spending the weekend with us so I think a nice hot shower would do you the world of good right now, then we can try you on some food.”

The doctor and a nurse then helped Morse into a wheelchair and he was taken along to the patient’s bathroom. Sitting under a steaming shower (his legs still slightly too weak to support him) the hot water worked wonders. Morse could feel his muscles starting to relax, the knots loosening out. His heard had returned to a steady rhythm and the panic that had been threatening to engulf him receded. Upon returning to his bed, the crumpled mess left by his twisting and turning had been remade into neat folded order.  At his request, the doctor had left the latest edition of the Oxford Mail – when he returned 45 minutes later it was to find that Morse had already completed the cryptic crossword.

“I think we might pass on the psychiatrist,” Doctor White remarked, squinting down at the filled boxes with a wry smile. He relayed this news to the Inspector on his next phone check.

“Call the psychiatrist,” snorted Thursday. “He usually finishes it in 30.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the line's where Thursday and DeBryn make jokes - I apologise in advance if this offends anyone. In no way am I trying to insinuate that drug taking or psychiatry are laughing matters, I put them in as the sort of quips the characters might make to try and cope with the stress on themselves and Morse. Also, sorry if I'm vastly overthinking that.


End file.
